


The Wolf of Colovia

by Zexapher



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action, Adventure, F/M, Heroism, Light the Dragonfires, Oblivion Main Quest, Politics, impending doom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zexapher/pseuds/Zexapher
Summary: Alexius was nobody important, not anymore. He had been the son of the Count of Kvatch, until the Lord found a bride and set aside his former lover and their son. But this is not the end of Alek's story, he will not be a footnote in history. In the waning days of the Third Era, the bastard of Kvatch will rise to become a hero, a champion, and perhaps something more.
Relationships: Pairing Undecided - Relationship
Kudos: 1





	1. The Young Wolf

Alek didn’t care for the farm. When he was pushing the plow and urging the ox to pull it through the unyielding dirt, all Alek could think about were the more enjoyable lessons in sword play or the fascinating lessons in history that he had once been taught. When he was sowing seeds in the earth, all Alek could think of were the livelier pastimes he enjoyed with his friends in the bustling city. When he and his mother, Elayna, slept in their rickety shack, with the summer’s rainwater dripping through the leaky ceiling, all Alek thought of were the dry rooms and warm hearths of the old keep. When winter set upon them this past year, Alek had dreamed of those hearths, that had always been maintained throughout day and night. When he and his mother sat down for dinner in their small hut with barely two rooms, enjoying another disappointing crop of leeks and cabbages or the rare bit of game that his mother had joyously found the time to hunt for, all Alek thought of were the grand feasts he had loved in the dining hall of Castle Kvatch.

He had remembered his birthday two months prior, during First Seed, it had been a quaint thing. One celebrated with the few country friends that Alek had made. The harvest hadn’t come in yet, they had only just started planting, so even the larger meal was somewhat limited in its appeal. An extra portion of some barely grown lettuce and leaks and, of course, they began to clear out the winter stores of radishes and old nuts. The greatest luxuries that day were the wheel of cheese Elayna had won from Loren’s family, and the fresh venison that Alek’s mother had managed to hunt down a few days prior.

‘I suppose I have my father to thank for that, at least.’ Alek thought to himself, it was fortunate that the Lord Goldwine had granted them the right to hunt in his forests. But even with a luxury like that, his birthday celebration, and even the celebrations on the day of South Wind’s Prayer, didn’t compare to the feasts of the castle.

He had been here some years now, and Alek had grown into a strong young man. His mind was often occupied with the work of the farm, the business of selling their produce, setting aside the portion lord’s portion of the harvest, or with more trivial things like how his red hair was beginning to grow a little too long for his liking and needed a cut.

But when they brought their produce to market, and Alek caught a glimpse of the life he had once taken for granted, he was filled with envy. Shops and taverns, filled to the brim with food and drink that Alek had once only needed to flash a few Septims at to see his desires granted. Alek would jiggle the handful of coppers that they earned for the day, and he’d frown at the city’s arena. The roar of the crowd could be heard over the high walls of the stadium, tempting and torturing Alek’s ears, but the cost of admittance was beyond him now. To view another of Kvatch’s famous gladiatorial matches that rivaled those of the Imperial City, that would have made Alek’s month.

Life was duller now, Alek would often catch himself wishing to see one of the plays in the amphitheater. He remembered how he had gone with his mother and father to see the exciting play about Empress Kintyra II and the Wolf Queen. But now they had to save their money to hire a carpenter to fix up their roof, build a barn, buy some livestock, and hire a few farmhands to tend the crop. All their money needed to go into expanding the farm.

Alek had been happy once, you see. When he had thought his father and mother more than happy together, when he saw himself as his father’s son. Alek knew he was naïve then; his mother was merely the daughter of a grave keeper, one that had risen as an adventurer in Count Goldwine’s service. A strong woman that could have once boasted of her beauty, as much as she did her grand deeds, had caught the Count’s attention. It was but a dream however, there was never much chance that the Count would reach below his station and marry a woman of low birth. A lord’s position required a marriage with a woman of a higher stature. And when the noble Count Goldwine found his noble bride, well, the new high-born countess did not appreciate the other woman and her son. And so, Count Goldwine packed them off to a small plot of land outside the city, at the bottom of the cliff, and he promptly forgot about them.

This is where they found themselves though, in the month of Second Seed, leaving the city behind them, riding their oxcart down Kvatch’s steep hill with the fog of the early morning only now lifting in the late day. There was much to occupy their minds this time of year, the seeds for the next crop had to be planted soon, the harvest from the first crop had to be sold or preserved, and there was always so much more work to be done. But it was at times like this, returning from another disappointing market day, that Alek would have some time to think about the state of their lives. His mother would always tell him to have some cheer, her years of wisdom had taught her that you could always find happiness in something.

“Look at the wonderful view we have from here, outside the city.” She flicked her auburn hair aside as she tried to ease her son’s distress. “The people in the city, surrounded by its high walls, go without the sight of the forests and graceful hills of the Gold Coast.”

“Anyone can leave the city if they want.” Alek replied with a huff.

“The city folk are less connected to the Great Forest, the West Weald, and pay little mind to the beautiful rolling hills of the Gold Coast, and even less to the mountain lands of the Colovian Highlands.” Elayna would simply reiterate with a smile. “Yes, no one knows the lands of Colovia likes us.”

“I’d rather spend the day with my friends, at the arena or something other than looking at trees.” Alek added, unwilling to relent.

“It was these lands, these wilds, that started my profession as an adventurer.” His mother grew more serious, giving Alek a frown. “You may want to get to know these lands better, Alexius, adventuring was what granted me independence from your grandfather and the family’s crowded little hut.”

“I know the countryside well enough.” Alek tried to cut in. “And you don’t need to tell me the story, mom, I’ve heard it near a hundred times.”

His mother carried on anyways. “If I hadn’t seized the opportunity, I’d have spent most of my years digging graves alongside my father, at least until I found someone to marry. Graves, that’s all there was to our family. We were the grave keepers, and that was our only identity, but I wasn’t going to let that be all there was to my life. I got out, I joined the Fighter’s Guild, and I learned. It was dangerous at times, but I made a good living there. It was on an assignment that I met your father, he-”

“I don’t want to hear about him.” Alek all but shouted.

“Alek!” His mother yelled, giving him a fierce look. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

“He sent us away, he doesn’t care about us.” Alek carried on petulantly.

“Ormellius is a complicated man.” Elayna leaned back in the cart. “He’s done right by his people, but…” She trailed off. “Well, there’s no use thinking about it now.”

As they pulled up to the farm, she added. “You might want to join the fighter’s guild, make sure your sword skill isn’t rusty. I hear the baron of Dasek Moor has contracted the guild hall in Kvatch, he has some problem with bandits, and now the guild hall is looking for more recruits to handle it. Could be good work.”

“I suppose.” Alek said noncommittedly, but truth be told, he was starting to grow attached to the idea of striking out on his own. He wanted more in life, more than this.

“It could be good paying work. Heavens know you can handle it.” Elayna continued proudly as she hopped off the cart. “And by the time the job is done, the harvest is likely to have come in.”

Alek began to unshackle the oxen as he considered it. “I’ll head into Kvatch on the morrow and apply at the guild hall.”

His mother beamed at that, but as the day’s fog began to lift, Alek noticed a group of men approaching from down the road.

“Hey, you recognize those fellows?” Alek questioned, peering down the path away from their farm. The men looked to be outfitted for a fight. They all carried an assortment of swords, daggers, and axes. They wore mostly shaggy linens and furs. A couple were on horseback though, with one big one even being outfitted with a mean looking suit of iron armor.

“They aren’t in uniform, not the Count’s men, and they don’t look like Lord Ostius’ men either.” A worried look was growing on Elayna’s face. “Could be boys from the Fighter’s Guild.” She added, although she didn’t appear confident in that. “Bring me my sword and shield, I don’t like this.”

Alek rushed to the house, threw open the door, and tore two swords and a shield off the wall. When he came back out, the men were walking up the yard towards his mother.

As Alek handed off a sword and shield to Elayna she called out to the men. “That’s close enough! Who are you, and why have you come here?”

“Why, we’re the Count’s men.” A wiry man on horseback declared, a weaselly grin sprouting on his face. “Come to collect a tax, you see, me and my boys need to get paid.”

“You men aren’t the Count’s; you don’t bear the wolf sigil of Kvatch.”

“Regardless, we will have our due.” The wiry man added as he signaled his men. They began to fan out, surrounding Alek and his mother.

“Don’t let them get behind us!” Elayna called out, shifting left towards Alek and springing forwards to closest foe. With a quick swing, the sword impacted on the man’s shield, but his shield was brought low, and Elayna followed up her strike with strike from the edge of her shield aimed straight for his face. With a crack, the man crumbled. The man’s fellow lunged after Elayna’s exposed side, but Alek caught his blade with his own and, with a twist, cut deep through the man’s arm. He cried out and retreated.

The final two on foot were more cautious, and remained close beside one another. Together the two angled themselves to the side, to keep them in front Alek and Elayna would expose themselves to the two on horseback.

The two came upon them, one hacking and slashing at Elayna’s shield with his axe, the other rushing Alek with his shield held high. The man with the shield bowled into Alek and brought him to the ground, knocking the wind right out of him.

They grappled there, Alek gasping for breath. The bandit tried angling his short sword for Alek’s neck, but Alek seized his arm, they struggled, the blade inching its way towards Alek’s throat.

As the cold steel began to press against Alek’s throat, drawing a trickle of blood, Elayna tackled the bandit. The two hurtled to the side, the bandit now skewered on Elayna’s blade.

Alek struggled to his feet, trying to regain his breath. He noticed his mother had a large cut upon her face, and it bled profusely. Her own opponent still stood, catching his breath, as Alek’s own earlier foe rejoined him.

“Enough of this! Urz, kill them!” The wiry man shouted as Alek struggled to his feet, gasping for breath.

The large man in the iron suit kicked his feet and urged his horse forwards, raising up a large and very deadly looking mace.

“Alek, run!” His mother shout, putting her weight behind pulling her sword out of the newly deceased bandit. She just barely had the time to raise her shield as the iron man brought his mace down, crashing it into her shield and splintering it into pieces. The force of the blow threw Elayna to the ground, she scrambled to her feet as the iron man, an orc from what Alek made out, pulled the reins of his horse and turned it around for another charge.

“Run!” Elayna yelled once more, her shield broken and now cast aside on the ground.

Alek ran.

“Damn it.” The wiry man growled out, as he spurred his horse after Alek. “You two quit standing around, grab any valuables in the house and burn the rest!”

Alek was running full tilt to the tree line at the edge of the farm. If he makes it to the woods, he might be able to lose his pursuer. But it was not to be, the wiry man was too fast on horseback and was soon upon him. Alek tried to make a blow at the man’s leg, but the bandit deflected it, and with a follow up he sliced through Alek’s upper arm. It was with a slight twist that Alek narrowly avoided a serious wound.

The bandit had pulled up alongside Alek now, and with a thrust Alek tore into the man’s horse. The animal bucked and reared, throwing the wiry man from its saddle. The bandit scrambled to his feet, too quickly for Alek to take advantage.

“You bastard!” He shouted, his face twisting and turning red. He lunged forward with his blade, Alek jumped to the side, but the blade caught and sliced into his right side and glanced off a rib.

Alek tried to counter, cutting the man upon the cheek, but the bandit brought his blade up and twisted Alek's own blade from his grasp. Disarmed, Alek could only think to do one thing. Alek charged the man, putting every ounce of his weight and strength behind his tackle. Then they were on the ground, Alek seize the man's sword arm and pinned it to the ground. The wiry man used his free hand to send punch after punch into Alek's wounded side. But Alek didn't relent, and brought his own fists down upon the man's face. Again, again, again, and again he brought his fist down on the man. The bandit's nose cracked, his teeth came loose, and his face became a bloody mess. When the man below him finally grew still, Alek relented and rose to his feet. He looked back at the farm to see the remaining bandits lighting the farmhouse with touches, and the massive orc coming down from his horse. Alek's mother was struggling to rise, collapse to the ground more than once. When she rose to her hands and knees, the iron man stood before her. She looked up, and the orc brought his mace down.

Alexius ran to the woods once more.

He ran, and ran, until he came upon the Lord Ostius’ estate. Alexius pleaded with the lord for his help, and Lord Ostius rallied his small retinue of soldiers and knights to hunt down the bandits. Alexius asked a favor before departing with the Lord and his men, that Ostius send a message to Kvatch, and the Count.

It was not long before Alexius and Lord Ostius’ men reached the burnt-out husk of a building that had so recently been home to Alek. The battered and bloodied body of Alexius’ mother was found with a caved in skull. As Lord Ostius sent men to search the countryside, Alexius searched the ruined farmhouse. There wasn’t much to salvage. As the hours passed and the sun began to set, the banners of Kvatch were spotted up the countryside. Count Goldwine and his retinue had arrived.

Alexius was in shock over the total loss that he had just experienced, perhaps that is why he did not yell or scream at the father that he had been so embittered against mere hours ago. In the years that followed, Alexius would remember the faint memory of his father placing a hand upon his shoulder and telling him words of shared sorrow. The memory that remained sharply in Alexius' mind however, was his mother wrapped in linen, and his father suggesting a new life away from these terrible memories. Alexius would have laughed at the suggestion, if he had it in him, no distance could do away with this memory. But in the following days, he did as his father commanded. He sold the farm where he had spent so much of his life, tossed most of the funds he received into an account at the bank in Kvatch, boarded the cart that his father had paid for, and set out for the Imperial City, to join the Ruby Ranks.


	2. The Imperial City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexius arrives at the heart of the Empire, the greatest city in the world. He marvels at its grandiosity, and sees hints of its seedier underbelly.

The journey to the Imperial City was a long, but rather uneventful one. Other than a lively conversation Alexius enjoyed with the cart driver, a Redguard named Boldon, there was little to do aside from enjoying the vibrant green forests of the West Weald. Alexius tried to keep himself occupied writing in the journal he had taken to keeping since… well, recently. They encountered the occasional traveler along Cyrodiil’s main western thoroughfare. The Imperial Legion kept the roads safe enough, and Skingrad and Kvatch kept their realms in order, most of the time at least. So, they didn’t have to worry about bandits or the like. Skingrad, that was a fine city. Alexius will always be partial to Kvatch, but the forests opening up to wine country was a striking vision. The scent of grapes fermenting on the vine was heavy in the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of their fine soil. Indeed, Skingrad played host to the two most famous vineyards in Cyrodiil if not all Tamriel, the Surilie Brothers’ and Tamika’s Vineyards. Grapes were not the only produce available around the city however, numerous farms stretched out along the countryside around the city. There even seemed to be a particularly large number of sheep herders as well.

It was certainly a productive city, though it didn’t quite match the scale of Kvatch. But it was also a city built for a fight. It was after all, much like Kvatch, a city built for the old kings of those ancient days of Alessia. High walls with even higher towers. Two strong gatehouses controlled the Gold Road, with a killing field between them separating two halves of the city. The castle itself dominated the mountains flanking the city, and was able to support the city if needed.

Alexius frowned at not having had the time to enjoy the city further, he and Boldon had only stayed the night. Alexius couldn’t help but wish he could have sampled their theaters or seen how the local gladiators differed from Kvatch’s. The West Weald Inn was most comfortable, but it was a shame that Alexius’ memory of the city’s people was somewhat marred by an unusual little Bosmer that tried to recruit him for some endeavor. Even still, Alexius sympathized when he heard that a local Mage had been missing. Alexius had inquired with the local guild hall, to see if they needed some assistance, but the chapter head, Adrienne Berene, only informed him that she had assigned a promising young mage to the task already.

So, with that there was little for Alexius to do but ready himself for the rest of the journey. He made sure to purchase a bottle of Tamika’s fine wine with some of the funds that Count Goldwine had lent him. Alexius believed the wine, along with some local cheese and smoked meats, might make for some fine traveling food to share with Boldon. When Alexius offered up the wine to share on their way out of the city, Boldon even cheered. The rest of the journey saw some light conversation, interrupted only by the occasional stop to rest the horses, whom Alexius soon learned Boldon had named Dancer and Chestnut.

They were nearing the end of the Great Forest when Boldon asked, “Alek, you said you were off to join the Legion?”

“That’s the plan.”

“So, why didn’t you apply at the local office in Kvatch? Or in Skingrad? Why make the trip all the way to the Imperial City?”

“I suppose my father wants to get me as far away as possible.” Alexius answered, not quite willing to acknowledge the greater reason.

“Not a good relationship with your pa?” Boldon asked frowning. “I’m sorry to hear that, damn shame that is. I don’t know where I’d be right now if I hadn’t had my father.”

After a pause he continued. “You ever been to the Imperial City before?”

“Never, I’d been to Skingrad once before, but this is the farthest from home I’ve ever been.”

“Oh, you’ll love it. The capital is a wonderful city, so many people, so many things to do. Just try to keep to the nicer neighborhoods, although by the looks of you maybe that won’t be something to worry about.”

“I have been looking forward to it, I’ve been wanting to see the world.” Alexius admitted, a grin starting to emerge on his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a match at an arena, and the Imperial City is supposed to have the biggest fights.”

“Then you’ll be in for a treat, all the stories you’ve heard are true.” Boldon gave a laugh. “Sometimes they even flood the arena and have ships battle it out! Never let anyone tell you those fights are faked. Blunted weapons and fake blood, HAH, I’ve seen a man’s head cleaved right off!”

Alexius offered him the bottle of wine, and Boldon happily accepted. He sipped from it before continuing.

“There’s more to the city though, there’s plays, the orchestras, parades, the holiday celebrations there are like no other in the world. You have to be sure all life has to offer. You can start with this view!” Boldon shouted as the trees before them parted before them.

The forest cover dropped off and the heartlands opened up before them. Down the hillside was massive Lake Rumare, at the center of which were the Imperial Isles. The islands themselves were dominated by the Imperial City, and absolutely massive city of gleaming white stone. Large bridges connected the main city to outlying districts. The greatest bridge extended west, and connected the city to the mainland. A large town, Weye, nestled itself at the outer gate of the bridge.

But most strikingly of all was the Imperial Palace, the White-Gold Tower. It took Alexius’ breath away, such was its magnificence and immense size. The ancient tower built by the old Ayleids, and within which generation after generation of emperors had resided, extended far into the heavans. Alexius had never, in his entire life, seen a building that could compare. The city seemed as if it was built for the gods themselves, the white stone and jeweled arches glowed in the day’s light.

“Wow.” Alexius couldn’t help but say. “It’s beautiful.”

“There you have it, the Imperial City. The largest and most magnificent city in all Tamriel.”

As they pulled onto the Red Ring Road, Alexius noticed how the traffic was picking up. Men and women, merchants and farmers, lords and commoners, man and elf and beastmen, all manner of people could be seen making their way to and from the capital of the Empire. All corners of the Empire converged here, this was the center of Cyrodiil and the center of the Empire. The Gold Road from the West, the Green Road from the South, the Black Road from the Northwest, the Silver Road from the North, the Blue Road from the East, and the Yellow Road to the Southeast. They all met here, at the Imperial City.

Alexius marveled at the tall and elegant structures of the city as Boldon guided their cart into Weye. The town that had grown at the entrance across the water to the Imperial City was bustling with activity.

“This is as far as I’ll be taking you.” Boldon declared as he pulled up to an inn, the sign swinging out front named it Waynet Inn. “I’m going to offload some things with a friend of mine, you can make your way into the city now.”

“Thank you for the ride.” Alexius said as he gathered his things, there wasn’t much to carry. A small sack of cloths and some odds and ends that included what was left of the provisions from the journey. Alexius strapped his sword to his waist and secured the money pouch that carried what funds the Count had provided him.

“Think nothing of it.” Boldon said, a small crinkle played at the corners of his eyes.

With a short handshake the two parted ways. Alexius joined himself to the growing crowd crossing the great bridge into the city. He crossed the first great arch, then the second, and the third. Each one towered far above his head, each one flaunted the Empire’s wealth and the vast history of the city. As he entered the great gate, the city both opened up before him and seemed to cram into itself. Talos Plaza was a such a place. High manors flanked the roads, a massive circular plaza opened up at the center of the district, a main hub and thoroughfare for the entrance to the city. An intricate dragon statue dominated the plaza itself, surrounded by bright green hedges with brilliant flowers. Well cared for gardens flanked the roads and the plaza. This was a wealthy neighborhood no doubt, prime real estate, Alexius suspected, due to the ease of access in and out of the city. The crowds were thick here, Alexius had thought Kvatch was a populous city, but here he could barely lift an arm without hitting someone.

There were probably a few recruitment offices in the city, but the one Alexius knew of was in the Merchant District, off to the northeast of the city. Alexius turned south however, he wished to first make a pilgrimage to the Temple of the One before he got to business. No need to rush into the Legion before seeing the city, and paying respect to the gods. As he was making his way through the grand plaza, the pace began to slow with the throngs of people. It was difficult not to bump into someone here, but Alexius wasn’t opposed to shouldering his way through. Alexius pushed past a rough Breton that shouted some obscenity his way, then a mean looking Nord that almost brought fists, but then a wood elf brushed past. She was tall for a wood elf; Alexius almost took her for a Breton. She nearly bowled into them; Alexius caught the girl as she tripped. She wasn’t dressed richly as the many aristocrats or rich merchants in the crowd were, but her hair looked so fine that Alexius couldn’t help but stare at the brunette. Their eyes met but for a moment, her eyes were a striking hazel. She quickly apologized with a laugh, and skipped off.

Alexius turned and would have thought of little more than the pretty girls of the city, had he not felt something strange. As if something was off. Alexius furrowed his brow at the strange feeling. Then, with a flash of realization, his hand slapped at his waist, to find his coin purse missing.

He quickly spun back around and search the crowd. He spotted the elf disappearing into the crowd, and gave chase.

“Stop that thief! Pickpocket!” He shouted, shoving his way through the crowd, some among them protesting at being pushed aside. The crowd was thick and Alexius’s progress was slow, the thief seemed to melt into the crowd however. Soon, Alexius lost track of them.

“Oblivion take you.” Alexius muttered in frustration. His cheeks were burning at the looks he was getting now. He has barely arrived in the big city, and already a cutpurse has stolen his coin. _‘Thank Stendar I still have some of my own coin in my pocket.’_

“Make way! Make way for Prince Geldall!” Shouted an imperial guard ahorse, decked in ceremonial armor. As the soldier and his men parted the crowd before them, Alexius made quick to the side of the road. The soldiers were quickly followed by the Crown Prince himself. Prince Geldall, a proud and strong young man atop an elegant white horse. Clothed in luxurious robes and jewels, he was flanked by a large entourage of nobles and bureaucrats. They were making their way out of the city it seems.

_‘The heir to the throne himself.’_ The Imperial City was truly the center of it all. Although the robbery had left Alexius feeling a great deal less enthused about the Imperial City, having a brush with greatness did somewhat leaven his spirits. Alexius made his way into the Temple District, stopping for a short time to report the loss of his purse to the guard, who were unfortunately unhelpful.

As with everything else in the Imperial City, there was a grandness to the Temple District that could never be found elsewhere in the world. Great manors and immense cathedrals, devoted to the many gods of the Empire, populated this section of the city. Dwarfing them all with its immense size and grandiosity, was the Temple of One. Yet another magnificent sight, that would remain in Alexius’ heart for years to come, further alleviated the heavy mood that dampened Alexius’ spirit. An absolutely astonishing temple, walking through its doorway was like entering the gates of a town. Congregants and priests milled about in great number, though no formal service was underway. Massive stained-glass windows were set in every outer wall, and depicted the Divines and the great acts of the gods and their most worthy servants, they coated the inner halls with a brilliant array of colors.

Smaller alcoves housed separate shrines to the various deities. Gods such as Magnus and even Lorkhan. There were also places to honor the various emperors and Cuhlecain, the mighty patron of the man turned God, Talos. And there were shrines to the great Saints of the Nine, such as Alessia and her consort, Morihaus the winged man-bull and son of Kynereth. The places of greatest honor belonged to the Nine Divines, the chief deities in the Imperial Pantheon. Talos, of course, the founder of the Empire and the man that became a god. Zenithar, the god of prosperity and work. Stendar, the god of justice and mercy. Mara, goddess of love and nature’s bounty. Kynareth, the goddess of the heavens. Julianos, the god of wisdom and learning. Dibella, the goddess of art and beauty. Arkay, the god of birth and death. And chief among them all, Akatosh, the dragon god of time, the very being who forged the Covenant with Saint Alessia that protects all of Nirn from the evils of the Daedra. Each god had a place in the temple that could have housed an entire chapel.

The most brilliant space of all, lay before the shrine of Akatosh. There, where the Dragonfires roared under the grand dome of the temple. Great fires lit so long ago by Emperor Uriel VII at his coronation more than half a century ago. Fires that had been maintained throughout the reign of the Septim Dynasty. The fires that had been first lit thousands of years in the past by Saint Alessia herself. Gods willing, they’d remain lit for many years to come. Emperor Uriel’s reign had seen its troubles, but Uriel had been an exceptional emperor through it all. Alexius offered a prayer to Akatosh, let the warmth of the fires seep into his being, and turned back to the entrance.

‘First a meal, then off to the recruitment office.’ Alexius thought to himself as he spotted a Khajiit sweeping by the door to the temple. “Hello there, I’m new to the city, could you help me find someplace I can grab some lunch?”

The Khajiit looked him up and down, the sword at Alek’s hip told him one thing, the rough spun farmclothes quite another.

“Hopefully someplace cheap.” Alexius added, his ears turning red. “A thief stole my coinpurse.”

“J’mhad is sorry to hear that. If you’re looking for a big meal on the cheap, J’mhad would recommend the Feed Bag in the Merchant District. It isn’t fancy, but one will always leave with a full stomach.” The groundskeeper said in a raspy voice. “Of course, one could also sample the food from the street vendors. The work here is done, J’mhad could show you the way, if you’re comfortable following.

Alexius gave his thanks and agreed. When J’mhad had put away his broom, the two made their way to the Merchant District, it was a longer walk than Alexius expected. _‘Gods, the city is big.’_

As the city began transitioning into shops and businesses, the crowds thickened once more. Merchants waved jewelry in the faces of passerby and espoused the quality. Gold and silver and gems mined right here in Cyrodiil. Clothiers exclaiming that if you merely felt the fabric they were selling then you’d have no choice but to buy some. Dye makers set up near the clothiers sold brilliant colors the likes of which Alexius had never seen. Food stalls and outdoor grills lined the streets as well, the smell of grilled meats and fried fish wafted through the air. Near every alehouse or inn had someone outside beckoning in new customers. But what fascinated Alexius was the variety, on one street it was as though they had teleported to Morrowind. Familiar foods prepared in unfamiliar ways, or some food that Alexius had never even heard of before. Authentic scuttle, kwama eggs, saltrice, crab made in the Vvardenfell fashion, and more and more. Another street over and the cuisine changed to that of Summerset. And a few blocks down, Alexius heard that there was a block devoted to Skyrim.

But with all this opulence, the noise of a thousand conversations, the flurry of business, Alexius couldn’t help but notice the beggars that always stood among but apart from the crowd. They found every niche between walls. And they choked near every alleyway, at least those that weren’t already occupied by more unsavory looking character. Yes, Alexius determined, this was a city of extremes, of stark contrasts.

Finally, Alexius and his companion came upon the Feed Bag, a little hole in the wall tucked into the corner of one of the Merchant Districts many plazas. Walking in, Alexius was hit by the warmth of the dining hall and the noise of the patrons packing the hall and trying to talk over one another. Alexius and J’mhad grabbed a pair of stools at the bar and before they could blink, the bartender was upon them.

“Put on the Feed Bag!” The man, and old looking dunmer, declared with a laugh. “I’m Delos Fandas, what can I get for you? Food and drink, we have plenty of it here!”

“J’mhad would like to pay for his new friend’s meal.” J’mhad offered generously, holding out some coins for the proprietor.

“You really don’t have to.” Alexius tried to wave him off, while reaching for his own measly pocket change.

“Nonsense, we can’t have you penniless you’re first time in the city!” J’mhad nearly growled, before shoving the coin into Delos’ hands. “Two ales and some of you’re pork and greens, if you please.”

“Very good,” Delos added while handing them their drinks, “I’ll get the food out to you in just a moment.”

The drinks were cool, they must have just been brought up from the cellar. Even so, Alexius was wishing for the bottle of Tamika’s wine that he had bought from Skingrad. Soon enough two plates of hot pork, with a side of spiced cabbage and potatoes were set in front of them. Alexius had to admit, even though J’mhad had talked the place down, their food was still quite good. Alexius and his companion struck up another conversation about the city, and Delos jumped in to recommend he walk the city and see it for himself.   
Alexius was almost too cut up to notice the energy in the bar change. The conversations quieted, and the other patrons seemed to be on edge. It didn’t take long to find the focus of everyone’s attention. An imperial guard had walked in, wearing full armor and resting a massive warhammer on his shoulder. The ceremonial design of his armor marked him for a captain.

“Audens.” Delos spoke up nervously, eyes flickering between the guard captain and his Warhammer. “Here for lunch? What can I get you?”

“That’s Captain Avidius to you.” The guard captain corrected him, shoving a few patrons aside so he could steal a spot at the bar. “You have a nice bar here, would be a shame if your business was hurt because you were disrespectful.” He added shifting the hammer and resting it upon the bar.”

“Most sorry.” Delos began to apologize profusely.

“You can make it up to me by getting me my food and drink, on the house of course.”

Alexius shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at the scene playing out across the bar.

“Don’t bother him.” J’mhad hissed out. “That one will finish his food quick and leave.”

There were moments of silence before Delos brought forth Auden’s meal.

Delos, to his credit, attempted to make some small conversation. “S-so, has the guard made any progress on the recent s-spat of thievery.” Delos stuttered out.

The glare Auden’s gave Delos drained the color from the bartender’s face. After a moment of Delos crumbling under Auden’s gaze, the guard captain spoke up. “The new captain’s been raising a fuss over a thieves guild; can you believe it? A guild for thieves? That’s got us all worked up. Now the whole guard’s been roused to follow one lead or another. I prefer things nice and quiet. Everyone’s happy when it’s quiet.”

“I’ve heard others say the same.” Delos tried to ease the guard’s mood.

“What the guard should be worried about are the Atiuses and Sintavs, those two families are always stirring up trouble.”

It was in this tense atmosphere that Alexius and J’mhad ducked out of the building.

“What’s the deal with that man?” Alexius asked once they were well outside.

“Audens gives the imperial guard a bad name.” J’mhad grumbled out. “Hope you don’t have the misfortune of running into him again. J’mhad hasn’t been arrested by him thankfully, but if you get on his bad side then watch out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Well, I suppose we best part ways now. It was great meeting you.”

“Best of luck to you.”

With that, they parted ways. And Alexius made his way to the recruitment office, where he found a grumpy looking imperial with greying hair.

“You’re here to join the Legion?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Name?”

“Alexius.”

“That your full name?”

Alexius gulped. “Graves, Alexius Graves.” Alexius used name of his mother’s family, the family of graveskeepers.

The recruiter gave him a look, before scribbling it down. “Very well. Where are you from?”

“Kvatch.”

“Long way from home. The Legion has offices down there.” The recruiter added, though his voice betrayed a lack of interest. “Any papers of recommendation?”

Alexius thought of the letters that his father had sent along with him, but he didn’t want to rely on his father’s name. “No.”

“Any skills of worth? Can you read and write?”

“Yes, my mothe-, uh, yes. I can read and write.” Alexius coughed. “I also know some about swordsmanship. And some basic magic.”

“How basic?”

“I know enough healing magic to make up a few scrapes and cuts. And could ignite a fire if I needed to.”

“Not much, but capable of learning more then.” The man jotted down some on the papers in front of him. “You probably won’t be assigned to the Battlemages if that’s all you can do.”

After a few follow up questions, he began to wrap things up. “Alright, sign these forms here. Everything needs to filled out four times, the Empire likes its records. One for you, one for this office, one for the Imperial Archives, and another for the Legion itself.”

“Of course.” Alexius signed and took one of the forms for himself.

“Head to the northeast bastion, just outside the Merchant district, tomorrow morning. You’ll assemble in the yard and Captain Giovanni Sivello will address you. He’s oversees the welcoming of new recruits. Once they have you sorted out, he’ll send you with your things across Lake Rumare to Fort Nikel, there you’ll undergo your training to become a legionnaire.” He stood up and stretched out his hand. Alexius took it and shook.

“Welcome to the Legion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: “I’m going to try to keep chapters short and neat in this fic.  
> Also me: Puts out a chapter with over 4k words.
> 
> I’m having a lot of trouble resisting writing about every little step of the journey and describing just about everything. A bit of a more cheerful chapter, Alexius making a few friends, taking in the sights of the city, and a few unfortunate encounters because everything can’t be perfect.
> 
> So, now we have Alexius formally joining the Imperial Legion, and a few background plots developing, thievery in the city, families causing trouble, a bad guard captain bothering some folks and so on. Interesting chapter imo, and for the next one we’ll have Alexius begin his years of service in the Legion by going through the old Imperial boot camp. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Author's Note:**

> And there's the first chapter of a new fic. Alexius, the bastard of the Count of Kvatch, has lost his mother and his home to a roving band of outlaws. Whether there's anything more to this chance event we'll have to wait and see, but at the very least it will launch our hero down a very different path in life from what he had expected.
> 
> This will be only the second story I've published, and the first one in the Elder Scrolls fandom, but I couldn't help myself from writing something down after getting back into Oblivion again over the past couple months. I'll be trying to keep the chapters a little shorter than I have for my other fic, try and cut down on some of the more superfluous language I tend to have.
> 
> I think I might try to expand the world a little bit from what we see in the games. Cyrodiil won’t be just 9 cities, though the canon cities will remain the major hubs in my alternate Cyrodiil. But I want to add in smaller lordships and extra counties, populate the Nibenay significantly more, and just make the center of the Empire feel a little more densely populated and built up. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!


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